Lipstick
by MarzBunni
Summary: Julius and Candace exchange more than their vows at their wedding. crossposted on Ao3


She'd worn no makeup; she had no idea how to put it on and had always been too embarrassed to ask Luna for help. Julius definitely knew how though, she'd seen his as she walked down the aisle (if she hadn't been so nervous, she might have been pleased at the added precision with which he'd applied it today, but at the time, she could hardly breathe from anxiety and had needed to focus on putting one foot in front of the other). She'd almost completely forgotten it, staring fixedly down at her own folded hands as Pastor Perry led them through their vows, until she and Julius finally (finally!) got to their "I do"s.

Candace felt her gut fill with crawling, skittering caterpillars (she wished they would go ahead and grow up into butterflies, surely that would be more comfortable) as Julius leaned forward towards her, and she let her arms drop, not sure where to put them. His lips landed on hers and she felt something that she would absolutely interpret as happiness later, when she was not in front of so many staring eyes. She felt frozen; while she loved Julius with all of her heart, she was certain she would have been much more comfortable with a private wedding, although there was no way that Julius would have abided it.

And then, suddenly, Candace noticed the tacky feeling of lipstick smeared onto her lips. She didn't realize what had happened at first, but after a moment she registered the sensation as Julius' rose red lipstick came away onto her own lips (although it was probably actually named something like "Rebellion" or "Cabana Sunset" or "Five-Alarm", since lipstick always had bizarre names whenever Candace had looked at it).

When Julius pulled back, his lipstick was smudged and faded, and he pressed his lips together, rubbing them to redistribute it. Candace thought suddenly of her mother, before she'd died, and how she'd dress up before a date with Candace's father. Her mother would always put her lipstick on last, applying it gently with the tube in front of the mirror, and then rub her lips together. She'd often make a duck face and quack jokingly at Candace, sometimes she'd even let Candace try on her lipstick as well, although Candace never quite figured out how to apply it herself.

Her mother had said, once, that makeup was like armor. It protected you by shoring you up and making you feel more beautiful, so that what others might think or say seemed less important. Candace had privately thought that it would be nice to have a half-invisible shield between herself and others, although she had ended up adopting her hair and work for that purpose instead.

Halfway lost in the sudden memory, Candace rubbed her own lips together, spreading the color around. Julius' smile, which had been fond to begin with, widened suddenly, and Candace found her own face, which had been in a confused sort of pout, beginning to mirror him. While her smile wasn't nearly as wide, she felt uplifted somehow, like the people watching didn't matter quite as much anymore. Like some of Julius' own indomitable confidence had rubbed off on her with his lipstick.

Making the best of the sudden, newfound strength, Candace leaned forward and pecked Julius on the lips, careful not to smudge his lipstick this time (or her own), maintaining her own small smile in the process. Julius' eyes crinkled, and Candace saw elation replace delight within them.

Together, they turned towards the church doors, following after the other who had already filed out. As Candace stepped into the bright sunlight, she raised a hand to shield her face, both from the sudden light and the stares, but her rose (or "Jungle" or "Audacious") red smile remained firmly in place. She felt a fluttering in her belly, like small, feathery wings.

Later, Candace would watch as Julius showed Angie how to apply her own lipstick. Candace would smile softly as Julius puckered in the mirror, remembering to blot this time, and then she'd rub her own lips, covered in a pale pink gloss, together before hugging her perfect daughter and her perfect husband. Julius would say something about be interrupted, but he'd hug her back, all the same, and Angie, the beautiful little girl they'd made together, would clench her little fingers into Candace's skirt. And Candace would feel the fluttering, soft happiness again.


End file.
